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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636348">Young God</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose'>Shaderose</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Parkner Week 2020! [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst with a Happy Ending, Arguing, Day 2, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies with benefits?, Fluff and Angst, Harley Keener as Iron Lad, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Its hard to explain aodjsk, M/M, Nothing shown tho, Parkner Week 2020, Peter Parker Has a Bad Day, Peter Parker Needs a Break, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Rivalry, Rivals with benefits?, idek how to tag this one, kind of?, more like, uhh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 11:00:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,926</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25636348</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shaderose/pseuds/Shaderose</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oh yeah?" Another step, and suddenly, they're face to face, their noses millimeters apart, almost brushing in their proximity. "Say that again, I dare you."</p><p>Harley takes the bait, leaning in closer until Peter can feel his air on his lips, their breath mixing. "You're a coward, Spider-Man."</p><p>And Peter thinks he's going to punch him. His fists are clenched, his body is tense, he's bracing himself to do it. But instead, he finds himself grabbing his shoulders tightly and pushing their lips together, his mind whirling as the reaction bubbles over and the flame in his chest ignites into a wildfire, bright and untamable as Harley kisses back just as heavily, just as intensely, pressing him back back back until his back is pushed against a brick wall. </p><p>~~</p><p><strike>“And i said ‘no,’ you know, like a liar”</strike> / <strong>identity shenanigans</strong> / <strong>iron lad</strong></p><p>~~</p><p>  <em>"Do you feel like a young god?</em><br/><em>You know the two of us are just young gods,</em><br/><em>And we'll be flying through the streets,</em><br/><em>With the people underneath</em><br/><em>And they're running, running, running..."</em></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harley Keener/Peter Parker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Parkner Week 2020! [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1857949</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>192</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Parkner Week 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Young God</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Day 2! This kinda sucks but eh</p><p>Hope you enjoy!! 🥰💞</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong> <em>He says "oo, baby girl, y</em></strong>
  <strong><em>ou know we're gonna be legends,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>I'm the king and you're the queen, a</em></strong>
  <strong><em>nd we will stumble through heaven,"</em> </strong>
</p><p>Peter sucks in a quick breath just before he crashes onto the rooftop, sliding across the sandpaper like tiles and feeling as it rips up his suit, the backs of his arms and legs, his hands as he claws and slows himself down until he finally stops, just at the edge of the house.</p><p>He stays still for a second, pants as he hears the mechanical whirrs and clicks of the robotic arms coming closer and closer to him, before he feels his hair stand up, and jumps backwards off of one rooftop to the other, just as Doc Ock crashes through the house below him, leaving only destruction in his wake. Peter listens sharply, for a scream or a cry but hears nothing, and feels a wave of relief knowing the family must not of been home, before its quickly wiped away as he instinctive jumps out of the way again, a claw crunching the stone he was stood on just moments before.</p><p>"Come on, Spider-Man," the man taunts, his bluish purple goggles gleaming in the setting sunlight. "Stop running away, and <em>fight!</em>"</p><p>Another claw, and another jump, except this time, Peter bounces off of the next rooftop he lands on, circling around and kicking the man right in the jawbone. "You asked for it!" He spits out as the kick throws him back, off kilter for a second, a moment that Peter tries to take to get out of distance again, out of range, but he's too slow, a third claw reaching for him, about to grab him-</p><p>Before its blasted to pieces by a bright purple light, and Peter cant help but to stifle the annoyed sigh that threatens to escape, the simmering anger that's been inside him all day starting to boil, to bubble up as he hears the familiar, way way too familiar Southern drawl call out, in all its mocking glory, "Hey squid boy, watch where you're throwing those things, someone could get hurt!"</p><p>Peter lands onto the brick wall, sticking into place and turns just to see Doc let out an irritated yell, and lunge for the bright red and gray suit, purple lights attached like lazor pointers to a cat, an easy target that never seems to faze the man no matter how many times Peter told him to tone them down. For once, Peter understands Docs anger, annoyance, as the suit weaves through his claws and shoots them apart with ease, laughing and mocking him the entire time. It makes his insides twist, and his blood boil, his heart racing and his teeth gritting together.</p><p>Peter throws himself off the wall just in time to kick Doc to the ground, all of his claws and weapons destroyed, and an affronted, almost <em>insulted</em> noise comes from the robotic suit flying beside him. "You can't just come in and steal the kill, that's not cool, dude!"</p><p>Peter doesn't even spare him a glance, webbing the villians hand, feet and then body to the ground. "What, like you did?"</p><p>"I did <em>not</em>," The robotizied voice cries out, like a child. "I was just helping you out, Spidey! You should be thanking me!"</p><p>Now, Peter can <em>hear </em>the smug grin on the man's face, and this time he can't help the bitter sigh that escapes, as he turns to send a heated glare. "Fuck off, Iron Lad."</p><p>He can practically see his eyebrows raise, even through the emotionless mask and the man laughs, loudly, his voice higher pitched with pure amusement as he says, "Oh ho ho, Man! What's got you in a piss poor mood, huh? Having a bad Spidey day, Spider-Man?"</p><p>Peter's nostrils flare, and he has to physically hold back the words that long to spill from his mouth, tasting bitter on his tongue, flames licking at his lungs. "Police?" He asks instead, glancing away to glare at the stones below him, his hands clenched hard into fists.</p><p>"On the way, eta maaybe two minutes?"</p><p>"Then let's go." Peter doesn't wait for an answer, shooting a web off into the distance and yanking himself away, huffing out a breath when he hears the very clear, "Sir, yes sir!" And the echo of replusors sound from behind him, <em>following </em>him like they always do.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"If there's a light at the end, it's just the sun in your eyes,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>I know you wanna go to heaven but you're human tonight,"</em> </strong>
</p><p>Peter swings for a while, trying to ignore, pretend that the metallic sounds of blasters aren't following him, hoping that eventually, the man, that <em>Harley</em> would get the hint and leave him the fuck alone today, but after a while, he realizes that won't happen and lands on the top of a building, crashing to the ground a little rougher than necessary, feeling his bubbling anger, annoyance rising higher and higher in his chest.</p><p>"<em>Finally</em>," The suit groans out, landing right beside Peter on the rooftop before flailing his arms out dramatically. "I thought you were <em>never</em> gonna stop, jeez."</p><p>"I'm on patrol." Peter growls out, going to the edge of the rooftop to look down and focus his hearing, to make sure he doesn't miss any moments, any crime that he needs to stop, almost wishing, itching that there <em>was </em>some so he could get away from the man encased in metal. He doesn't know why his presence is bugging him so much today- he's normally annoying, sure but not this much, never this bad- but it <em>is</em> and Peter just longs to <em>get away </em>(even as a part of him begs to get closer).</p><p>The man just huffs, his neon purple eyes seeming stare into Peter's soul incredulously. "Thats never stopped you before." When Peter just ignores him, the man takes a step forward and his helmet retracts, the face of the one and only Harley Stark- son to Tony Stark, heir to Stark industeies and the main pain in Peters ass for the last eight months- scrunched up with a weird mix of childish annoyance and <em>worry</em> that makes him look constipated. "Seriously, Spidey. What's going on? Are you okay?"</p><p>The real concern that slips into the mans tone makes Peter's insides twist, but he ignores it as he spits out, "Why do you care? Thought you only cared about yourself?"</p><p>Its intentionally rude, and he knows it hits its mark when a pang of hurt runs across Harley's features before it disappears back into a blank slate so similar to the one his father wears for the same reason, to hide the pain. "You know that's not true." Even his voice has gone back to painfully neutral, and any satisfaction Peter anticipated to feel is overwhelmed by a sickening guilt that poisons him from the inside out, twists his stomach and makes him feel nauseous.</p><p>He should apologize, he knows, but he's still- he still feels the burning, the fire under his skin, in his bloodstream, charring his lungs, molten lava in his veins, and he can't stop the sour words from slipping past his lips, with a faint mocking laugh. "<em>Do </em>I?"</p><p>"I thought you did." He mutters, his usually bright, summer day skies eyes darkening as a storm cloud passes by, rumbling with a thunder that makes Peter's heart thump heavily in his chest. "I <em>know</em> you do. I know you don't really like me, I get that, but you normally aren't this much of a dick about it. This isn't you."</p><p>Peter just laughs again, bitter and twisted and <em>wrong </em>sounding, even to himself. "You don't know me. You don't know anything <em>about</em> me."</p><p>
  <strong><em>H</em>e<em> says, "oo baby girl, don't get caught on my edges,</em></strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>I'm the king of everything, you know my tongue is a weapon,"</em> </strong>
</p><p>Harley's eyes just narrow more, his jaw clenching, and Peter can see his words are started to get to him, his fingers twitching and his shoulders raising. <em>Good</em>. "I think I know more about you than you think."</p><p>"Do you?" Peter snorts, shaking his head in exasperation as he glances over to the man, glaring, the fire burning brighter, flames licking at his throat. "Say, <em>what</em> do you know about me?"</p><p>"I know your <em>kind</em>," He starts, scowling, counting on his fingers as if Peter is a child that he's <em>lecuring</em>. "I know you're considerate. I know you put everyone else before yourself, because you think <em>somehow, subconsciously </em>that your life is worth less than others. I know you feel guilty for something that happened in the past, and try to better yourself because of it. I know you <em>care</em>, much more than you let on." Peter snorts, trying to ignore the emotions and raw feelings bubbling in his throat, and Harley just continues, ignoring it. "I may not know your name, or your face, or your- your <em>i</em><em>dentity</em> but I know <em>you</em>, Spidey. And this," He makes a waving motion at Peter's body, "<em>w</em><em>hatever this is</em>, it isn't you. So <em>Explain</em>. What's going on?"</p><p>He's almost pleading, now, begging for Peter to tell him and the masked man almost longs to tell him, but honestly, <em>he doesn't even know what's wrong.</em> He's felt this burning, this itch for something since he woke up, and as the day went on, he grew more and more irritated, irate, a chemical reaction gone wrong, Harley acting as a catalyst and speeding up the reaction until now, its starting to explode, bubbling over the glass and creating a mess of emotions.</p><p>Peter can't tell him that, though, can't tell him that he's being a dick for <em>nothing</em>, so he just shrugs him off, looking away again and muttering a quick, "Nothing."</p><p>He can almost feel the tension in the air rise, turning thick as Harley bristles and flares, "Let me help you, for fucks sake!"</p><p>"Maybe I don't <em>want</em> you to help me!" Peter sparks back, whipping his head back around to glare at the man, the energy high, electric around them.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>"There's a light in the crack, that separates your thighs,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>And if you wanna go to heaven, you should fuck me tonight,"</em> </strong>
</p><p>"Oh, no. You do." Harley sneers, stepping forward, closer to Peter. "You do, you're just too much of a coward to admit it."</p><p>Peter rolls up his mask to his nose, and glares heavily at the man, taking a step towards him in retaliation. "Middle school insults, really?"</p><p>"Only telling the truth." Another step forward. "You're a coward who tries to hide his true feelings and pretend they don't even, even though you <em>know</em> they do."</p><p>"Oh yeah?" Another step, and suddenly, they're face to face, their noses millimeters apart, almost brushing in their proximity. "Say that again, I dare you."</p><p>Harley takes the bait, leaning in closer until Peter can feel his air on his lips, their breath mixing. "You're a <em>coward</em>, Spider-Man."</p><p>And Peter thinks he's going to punch him. His fists are clenched, his body is tense, he's bracing himself to do it. But instead, he finds himself grabbing his shoulders tightly and pushing their lips together, his mind whirling as the reaction bubbles over and the flame in his chest ignites into a wildfire, bright and untamable as Harley kisses back just as heavily, just as intensely, pressing him back back back until his back is pushed against a brick wall. Their lips don't disconnect, their heads turning and tongue swirling as Harley's hands roam up and down Peter's suit, over his arms, chest and abs, Peter's moan being swallowed into Harley's mouth, only to be reciprocated moments later.</p><p>The kiss breaks only to allow Peter to jump into Harleys arms, his legs wrapped around and sticking to the waist of the metal suit and his arms around his neck before theyre reconnected again, sucking face and groaning into each others mouths.</p><p>"My place?" The blond asks, voice muddled by lips and tongue and teeth, and Peter only nods instead of answering, pressing his face into his neck to leave marks, bites and bruises as the other man wraps his arms around his waist and under his ass, before the repulsors start back up and they fly away, towards the giant looming tower in the distance.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>And I've been sitting at the bottom of a swimming pool, for a while now,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Drowning my thoughts out with the sounds,</em> </strong>
</p><p>Peter blinks awake slowly, hearing the faint whisper of a fan and a steady mechanical hum and feeling the satin, silk sheets beneath his fingertips. He turns his head slowly, his brain still groggy as he sees the other man, Harley beside him, his ryestalk hair askew and his face lax, more youthful than Peter's ever seen it, the sheet only covering to halfway up his chest, the rest out in the open, bare outside of the bright red marks still covering his skin. He flushes slightly as the memory's return from the night before, or, evening? He looks to the large, floor to ceiling windows beside the bed to see that it's still nighttime, the bright moonlight shining in through the clear glass, the pale blinds and illumating the room, casting shadows onto Harley's features and making him look... softer, ethereal, such a contrast to his sharp words and his even sharper personality. He finds he likes it, the softer, gentler look, and finds himself staring for a few moments, taking the moment in before he sits up slowly, making sure not to awaken the other man, and stands.</p><p>He finds a pair of pants on the floor, and a shirt he isn't sure is clean or dirty, throwing them both on before noticing a glass door, leading out into a balcony on the other side of the room. He had remembered landing somewhere early, hazily, though he obviously wasnt focused on it. It must've been there. He finds himself drawn to it, tiptoeing quietly over to the door and sliding it open before stepping outside, and taking a large inhale of the chilled air. He moves to the railing of the balcony, listening to the faint breeze of the late August winds, the car horns and honks in the distance, stares down at the still busseling, still alive city below them, not really focusing on anything, not really thinking, just breathing, feeling, <em>living.</em></p><p>That must be why he doesn't hear the other man stirring, or hear him approch until the door behind him clicks open again. Peter doesn't turn around, doesn't have to, just continuing to watch the cars drive by until two arms wrap around his waist, gently, warily, until a, now clothed, chest is pressed against his back, and a chin rests on his shoulder. Peter just exhales, leaning back into the other mans grip, feeling more relaxed, more at ease than he has in a while, longer than he can remember.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Do you feel like a young god?</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>Y</em><em>ou know the two of us are just young gods,</em> </strong>
</p><p>"Do you ever..." Peter doesn't know when, or why, he starts to speak, doesn't think of what he says as he murmurs, hushed, low, a whisper, "feel like a young god? With these powers, the suits, the- the responsibility..." Harley just hums, faintly, and they start to sway, subtle, gentle back and forth motions, back and forth, like waves cascading onto a beach. "They all look up to me. The people, the <em>city</em>. They all-" Peter shakes his head, sighing lightly, airy. "And sometimes I just... sometimes I just don't know if I'm enough, you know? Sometimes I just..."</p><p>"Need a break." The other man finishes, murmurs, his lips brushing against Peter's cheek and sends tingles down his back.</p><p>"I-I guess so, yeah." There's a few moments, a few seconds where they just sit in the comfortable silence, where Peter glances up at the smog filled sky, seeing a few stars shining through, the almost full moon gleaming brightly down at them.</p><p>Before, "Let me help, baby." Harley whispers, pleads, and Peter goes to protest but the blond beats him to it. "You're burnt out, constantly saving the city, saving the world, constantly being the punching bag for everyone else, <em>let me help</em>. Please, Peter," And that was something new, too, Harley knowing his name, knowing his face, knowing <em>him</em> through and through, though he knows the other man won't tell, won't share, turning his head with easy fingers to look him in the eye, his ocean blues almost neon in the glow of the moon. "Let me help you."</p><p>They stare at each other, flickering from eye to eye for a few beats, a few thumps in Peter's chest, and he doesn't answer, not really, just lowers his head and places it onto Harley's chest, into the crook of his neck, but his lack of an answer is answer enough. The older man just presses a drawn out kiss onto the top of his head, and holds him closer, a non spoken thank you that sends Peter reeling, unused to the feeling of care, of concern, of love.</p><p>And yet, surrounded by strong arms and held closely to a firm chest, Peter feels at his strongest, feels comforted, known, feels <em>safe</em>. He closes his eyes, and just breathes, let's himself have this moment of calm and quiet in the arms of his love.</p><p>
  <strong> <em>And we'll be flying through the streets, with the people underneath,</em> </strong>
</p><p>
  <strong><em>And they're running, </em> <em>running, </em> <em>running...</em></strong>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Based around the song: Young God by Halsey</p><p>Come say hi to me on tumblr! @shadedrose01 :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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